Love's Sacrifice
by Rayne Destiny
Summary: Haruka takes Michiru out so that she can get something for her newest art masterpiece, but it all ends in tragedy...


**Love's Sacrifice**  
by Iyasu

The yellow convertible sped down the streets of Juuban, the two passengers inside talking and laughing gaily. The driver was a woman with short blonde hair and blue eyes. Her companion was a woman with medium length aqua hair and cerulean eyes.

"Sometimes, Michi, I don't understand you," the blonde said to her companion.

"What is there to not understand? I need leaves, 'Ruka."

Haruka shook her head. "That's just it. What do you need with leaves?"

Michiru simply smiled. "You'll see."

Haruka muttered something under her breath about artists, before pulling into the parking lot that led to the park. After parking, she got out car and watched Michiru run up to the grove of trees like a little child. She placed her hands into her pockets and looked up at the trees made lovely by the autumn season. They were beautiful; Haruka could see why Michiru was so excited to be here.

A smile crossed over Haruka's features as she saw the picture that Michiru made. The wind was blowing through her hair and the white jacket and blue dress that she wore. She was reaching up at the tree, trying to get the best leaves. Haruka laughed a little as a leaf slipped past Michiru's grasp and was swept away on the wind. Catching the look that Michiru sent her, Haruka said, "Fine, fine, it's not funny." She turned her head to free herself from the aqua-haired woman's gaze. As she did so, a little shop caught her eye. _Looks interesting..._ She began to head towards it.

When Haruka had averted her gaze from her, Michiru went back to gathering leaves. The wind died down slightly, enough for her to gather her leaves. She gathered them quickly, before the wind picked up again. As she placed her leaves into the small basket that she had brought to hold the leaves, she saw Haruka heading towards a store. Michiru slipped her arm through the handle of the basket and went to catch up with Haruka.

When Michiru reached the crosswalk that Haruka had used to cross the street to go to the store, she saw a car racing down the street, although the traffic light was red. Quickly, she looked to see if the blonde had crossed the street. Haruka, taking her time and walking slowly, was halfway and did not see the car. Michiru ran as fast as she could, trying to get to her before the car did.

"HARUKA!"

Haruka turned as she heard her name being called, only to be shoved roughly in the direction that she had been heading in. She fell heavily to the ground, landing on her face. There was a bump, a screeching of tires, and silence. When Haruka looked up from her place on the ground, she received the shock of her life. There, lying in the middle of the street, was Michiru, blood beginning to appear on her body, her eyes closed. "Iie... Michiru..." She quickly went to Michiru's side and knelt, placing Michiru's head gently upon her lap. "Michiru..."

Feeling movement, Michiru opened her eyes, her azure orbs meeting Haruka's. She saw that she had intense worry upon her face and smiled faintly, trying to ease it. But Kami, she felt so tired... so, so tired. "You're unharmed... yokatta..." She rose her hand up to Haruka's face. It felt so warm... Michiru seemed to be growing colder. "It's like I said... a world without you is hardly worth saving..."

"Don't speak, you're wasting strength, Michi," Haruka said softly, tears threatening to fall.

"Oh, 'Ruka, don't you see? The sea is telling me that I must go..."

Haruka held Michiru tightly. "You can't! What about our Princess? What about Hotaru and Setsuna? What about me?"

"Haruka. We'll meet again, all of us... I promise." Michiru's hand slowly slid from Haruka's face to rest upon her own stomach. "Aishiteru..."

Haruka's eyes widened and the tears began to fall, unbidden. "No... Michiru..." She saw her eyes close as she stopped breathing. "Michiru! MICHIRU!" She bowed her head in grief, sobs being torn from her throat, her arms wrapping tightly around the one that had sacrificed herself for her, the one that she had loved as much as her dear Princess Usagi.

At their home, in Michiru's room, stood an easel with a painting on it. It was a painting of Haruka, running as if she was the wind, down a forest trail in autumn. On the painting was sprinkled a few ground up leaves on the trees that surrounded her. It was an art piece that would never be complete.


End file.
